


Soft

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: (if you want to read it as pre-romance be my guest), Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Short & Sweet, Sickfic, breathing infections, some TLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:20:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: John is sick but doesn't want to make a fuss about it.He doesn't, but someone notices and decides the bassist deserves some caring.Fluffy H/C thing, based on a prompt.





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SmittyJaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/gifts).



John wasn't a guy that exactly enjoyed standing out. Sure, he liked having his people, being taken into account and having fans, like the rest of them, but he didn't to cause problems. He preferred to solve them, and it was a good quality to have for a member of a band as tumultuous as Queen. The others fought and he knew how to distract them from the fights, get them out of their heads.

It was good that he liked it, because if he started screaming and making demands too, the band may implode. Freddie and Roger both had very strong personalities, personalities that often clashed too. Roger was a very sensitive guy and often got upset if his contribution was not accepted or taken seriously. He didn't like having to wait for people, and took every little joke a bit too much to heart. He was a good kid, but sometimes he let his emotions take hold of him.

And Freddie was larger than life, epic, glorious a machine that never stopped, thinking writing, performing, trying to find any other million ways to be outrageous.While most of the time he was a very dedicated performer, out of the stage he could be a bit... scattered. And he had to be careful not to let those... issues slip onto the band.

Brian was quite the diplomat, like him, but he also was a main conductor. He took decision, he wrote and sang his favourite songs, he had a way of stopping Freddie and Roger get into actual fights. He knew those two very well, and how to... handle them. They were lucky to have someone like that with them.

John was often the last person considered. He was never the cause of any fight, he accepted other people's ideas gladly, and when there was press there was often not a singly person who asked him a question. He knew that he was a important part of the band, and he'd written some of their hits so he didn't mind all that much. That was who he was in the band, ironic, calm dude who writes songs and never has a problem to play. He liked that this was his place. And he intended to keep.

That day there had been a lot of issues before the concert. Freddie had been drinking a lot the previous day and Roger was worried and tired of the constant excessive partying, whereas Freddie was tired of Roger's constant complaining. Brian tried to fix things a bit, but only managed to turn the two against him, telling him not to get into things he had no part in. It would seem that everyone was causing trouble but him....

Really not the moment to mention that the cold he had had kind of turned into a respiratory infection and he was having trouble to simply draw air. If he said something... people would be angry that he hadn't said something before, and either tell him to suck it up or complain that “where the hell are we going to find another bassist in such short notice”. They had enough things in their mind already, things that weren't music, when everything in their head should be music.

Besides, he'd seen the others perform in bad shape too. He'd seen Freddie sing and perform after a sleepless night as if nothing was different, he'd seen Roger drum until his hands were bleeding. And he could and he would do it too. He was every bit the musician they were, and he wouldn't make himself sound weaker, look bad. No, there were no weak members in Queen and he could do this.

Of course, that was easier said than done. Despite taking all the meds he'd been prescribed, John still feel like death warmed over. His whole chest was heavy and his throat hurt like hell. His head felt clogged and a tad sleepy because of the meds. He kept coughing but found no relief for his overtired lungs. His eyelids and all of his limbs felt too heavy. He was cold and wanted only to go back to bed and stay there for the remainder of his life. But he had a duty, and he would do it.

No one seemed to notice for the whole concert. He didn't know if it was because he was an exceptionally good actor who played the part of the healthy bassist all too well, or simply because, lost in their own troubles as they were, the others hadn't paid him much attention. As long as he wasn't a problem, there were more important things to tend to. He tried not to be too upset (this was what he wanted, after all, not to be a bother for the others, to be only helpful), but the truth was that he was a bit upset no one had noticed anything. Sometimes he felt like he would have to die for people to look at him. But no that was him being bitter and sick and exhausted and...

Just as he was feeling terribly sorry for himself and trying to find his way back to someplace where he could lie down, a voice stopped him.

“Deaky! I'd been meaning to get to you.”

What...? Who....? Freddie had left just after the concert to call Mary and Brian had wanted to talk to the technicians about some improvements, so... Could it be? Roger?

“Yes?” He said with a scratchy voice from too much coughing.

“I've heard you coughing and you seem to have that cold since forever. You okay, man?”

Well, this was unexpected. John would have imagined that Roger was already surrounded by pretty ladies and opening a bottle of champagne, but no. Blonde mane, blue eyes, yes, that was definitely Roger and there were no ladies around. He seemed genuinely worried.

Deaky wanted to say that he was okay, but was interrupted but a very inconvenient coughing fit. Shit. Roger probably had better things to do than this and...

“Let me help you to your bed, okay?”

Ok, since his cover was blown maybe he could let himself be helped for a bit. Not that he couldn't handle it himself, of course, but considering Roger offered...

The bed felt like heaven. John climbed under the covers, jacket and all, and let himself forget all his woes. He'd done his part for the band, he'd finished the gig and played all that he had to play and now everyone was busy with their girlfriends and whatnot and he could be miserable in peace.

“Amioxicillin? Damn, this is some serious medication, you must have been... bad to get this. Why didn't you say anything?”

Roger was still there?

“You had...” (cough break) “other things to think about.”

Roger seemed outraged.

“Our petty dramas aren't more important than your health!”

Deaky didn't know how to reply to that (I mean, if you looked at that way....) and just said:

“Shouldn't you be out there with your fans?”

“They can wait. But you're ill and I'm the closest thing to a doctor we have, so...”

Deaky let out a cough in between indignation and incredulity.

“Because you were a dental student?”

“Which I was because I have a passion for helping others.”

Whatever the reason, part of Deaky was happy to have someone there with him. He'd weathered many storms on his own because he didn't want to inconvenience others or seem helpless. And he knew that sometimes getting help was necessary, but he still had trouble asking for it. He liked the image of infallible, cool bass player he'd constructed. But when help was offered without asking... Well, then he had no trouble accepting.

Roger even helped him find some pyjamas and put some of that nice menthol ointment on his chest. Without Deaky having to ask anything, he was being looked after as if his mum was on there. As if he were a child again. Even if he still felt like crap, it was very pleasant not having to worry about anything else other than trying to get better, just taking care of himself. He would go to sleep and then he would wake up and feel better... Much better.

But before he closed his eyes his band mate's voice came again.

“I just wanted to say...I'm sorry if we haven't you the attention we should have. I know I can be a bit self-absorbed and not see others when I'm in one of my moods... so, yeah, sorry. Your...issues are as important as ours, and you shouldn't feel like you can't speak out. Next time, just ignore our.... fighting and idiocy and say something, ok? You shouldn't hurt yourself like this just to keep up.”

Deaky, already half sleep because of the meds and the warmth of the bed just half smiled.

“Thanks for caring, Ro.. Roger... I get it now, why the ladies like you... Not 'cos you're pretty, but because you're soft...”

Roger's smile as he tucked his bandmates under even more blankets was the last thing he saw before falling asleep.

The next morning he felt much better after sleeping for nearly ten hours. There was a note. He had his meds for the morning out and ready, and some milk and honey, which were supposed to be good for the throat. He warmed it and drank it, slowly, carefully, enjoying the sweet taste and the calming effect it had on his ravaged throat. There were people outside, but it had been instructed that he wasn't allowed to be bothered.

John looked at Roger, asleep on the sofa, drool on his lips and smiled. It was good to have friends that knew when soft was needed.

John Deacon didn't like to stand out, but didn't like to be forgotten either. But this scenario.... where got a night for himself, some attention and some time to rest without having to disrupt any plans.... This was ideal. And it made an awful night become a much more pleasant morning. He smiled to his milk.

The taste was soft. The morning light was soft. The day before everything had been a struggle, but now... Now he felt he had a place too, more than ever.

John's smile as he drank the milk was soft, too. Even the most outrageous big rebel rockstars were allowed to be soft.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please do comment! And as usual, prompts are open ;)


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